


In the Eyes of the Beholder

by UnsulliedSacrilege



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anonymous Sex, M/M, Masquerade, Sensual Mystery, Strangers with benefits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:05:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14370540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnsulliedSacrilege/pseuds/UnsulliedSacrilege
Summary: 'Cut the crap Ignis!! Why don't you just go and fuck yourself? Or better yet find someone else to fuck instead of fucking me with this shit!'These were the very words that led Ignis to start a stranger with benefits relationship with a man met at an anonymous casual sex club. A man who would then go on to be the very man he’s supposed to work with when accompanying the Prince to Altissia.





	1. Chapter 1

_ 'Cut the crap Ignis!! Why don't you just go and fuck yourself? Or better yet find someone else to fuck instead of fucking me with this shit!' _

The door slam and his Highness' parting words as he left were what brought Ignis to standing where he was now. Outside a rather nondescript building, in a sketchy neighbourhood, fingering a plain white business card he'd found tucked between the pages of a book at a hipster coffee joint.

The coffee joint had been far enough away from the Citadel that he wouldn't have been noticed but close enough to Noctis' in case he wanted to apologise. The book had been small and tucked away in between  _ 'An Encyclopaedia of the Plants of Duscae _ ' and ' _ The Life and Times of the Rogue Queen _ '. The book, ' _ A Comprehensive Guide to Brickwork _ ', sounded like the perfect read to take his mind off what had happened. Something so mind-numbingly boring that he could lose himself in it.  Only it wasn't a book. Merely a container filled with identical white business cards. He took one, retrieved his coffee and left in a hurry. The business card lacked vital information. It gave a name (' _ Discretion _ '), an address (a building on a run-down street in a part of the city that Ignis hadn't even realised existed) and a rule (' _ full face masks required _ ').

He pocketed the card and readjusted the mask covering his face; he'd left his glasses in the car so as not to ruin the look. It was a simple mask, one he'd bought at the Coernix Station three blocks over. If one was being historically accurate, it was ' _ a bauta _ ', worn in a pre-Niflheim Altissia by government officials during important political decision-making events. It provided perfect anonymity and neither the irony nor the history was lost on Ignis.

Curiosity was what had led him here- that and a desire to rebel, to act out. In his twenty-two years, he'd never even so much as put a toe out of line before. Now, with the frustration of what had transpired combined with the anger he felt towards his prince, he felt the need to just let loose. Squaring his shoulders, he checked his car keys were safe in his jacket pocket and that his phone was switched to silent; he would never switch off- he wanted to rebel, but not in a way that made him unreachable in an emergency. Plus, he thought rationally as he walked towards a steel door, what if he was walking into a death trap, a trap set by the empire to kidnap and kill those closest to the Lucian Royal Family? His phone had tracking software and, if he left it on, Crownsguard would track him if he was inactive after twenty-four hours.

He knocked and a window slid open before a pair of eyes sized him up.  No words were exchanged and the door was opened, the mask apparently being the requirement for entry. There was no going back now, Ignis thought as he stepped over the threshold. The bouncer gestured him over to a cloakroom window.

"Jacket," a cold voice barked from behind a tiger mask and Ignis complied, slipping off his suit jacket and handing it over, forgetting that both his phone and keys were in the pocket. "Money," and Ignis pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and paid the twenty-five Insomnian Dollar entrance fee. This, according to the sign on the door to the cloakroom, gave him unlimited drinks and access to the private rooms. "Preference?" the voice barked again and Ignis frowned, a sound catching in the back of his throat as he hesitated on his answer. There was a tut of impatience and grey eyes moved over him, dissecting him. Hands reached out and Ignis flinched as fingers unbuttoned his shirt, just the top three buttons, but enough for him to show his collarbone. Another tut and a painted nail, red, pointed to the pendant he wore. It was pretty obvious. No-one but those close to the royal family wore jewellery adorned with skulls. He raised his arms to behind his back and unclasped it before dropping it into an outstretched palm.

In exchange, he was given a small plastic flower, rainbow in colour, that was tucked into his shirt pocket. The hand patted it, before pointing behind him. He glanced towards the point, noticing a set of wooden stairs leading down.  He glanced back.

"First time?" Was it that obvious? He nodded. "Rules are simple: no talking, masks stay on at all times, what happens in Discretion stays in Discretion, locks on the door are optional." They pointed again and this time Ignis turned and headed towards the stairs. What had he gotten himself into?

There was a soft music playing, so low that he hadn't heard it until he reached the stairs and started climbing down. Mid-way down the stairs, the wall on the right gave way to a view of the floor below, a large open space filled with people mingling and slow dancing. A corridor directly in front of the stairs housed doors, giving more meaning to why the person upstairs had told him that locks were optional. There was a bar along the right of the room and Ignis headed there as soon as he stepped off the stairs.

Everyone wore masks, even the servers and the band.  Masks in the same sort of style: full-face, full-anonymity, no mouths. He passed a couple dancing on the floor, and he smiled at the thought of having someone to dance with until one of the couples let out a guttural moan. Ignis turned his head in time to see a hand slip underneath a skirt.  Refocusing on the bar as his destination and feeling rather happy that his mask hid the blush that had started to form across his cheeks, Ignis doubled his pace in order to get away from the moaning that only got louder.

Upon reaching the bar, he sat hastily on an empty stool and flagged down a bartender, glancing around as he did. The bar area was quiet.  At the far end was a couple and at the other a lone person, a guy judging by his stature and muscle mass. All around him were couples dancing and under the stairs were a couple of booths where groups drank and watched. Movement from one end of the bar pulled his attention and he watched as a hand drifted over a crotch, there was a nod of consent and the couple stood up and walked hand in hand towards the corridor with doors. Ignis flushed as he what kind of establishment he was in.

In his quest to rebel and relieve some tension, Ignis had inadvertently wandered into some sort of anonymous sex club. He thought he'd feel appalled by the thought, but all that followed the sense of revelation was curiosity. He'd only heard about these sort of establishments in passing, a whisper through shower cubicles in the training room, an exchange in a coffee shop, but he never thought he'd find himself in one. There was no harm in staying for one drink, was there?

He turned back to the bar fully intending to order himself a drink, only to find that someone had placed a martini in front of him. Did the bar staff know a person's preference of drink just by looking at them? He took a sip, noting that they hadn't polluted it with an olive, it was instead garnished with a lemon peel, which gave a citrusy taste to the gin and vermouth, exactly how he liked it.

The man at the other end of the bar had gone as well, leaving Ignis alone, which was a shame as Ignis wouldn't have minded watching him from afar. He'd looked to be strong, well defined, capable of handling himself and a small part of Ignis' brain decided that if he was going to experience everything the sex club had to offer then he would have been the one to do it with. Now he was gone, however, and Ignis was left alone nursing a very tasty martini.

On his second martini, the man came back, sliding into a seat next to Ignis and signalling for a drink, his knee knocking into Ignis' as he did, giving Ignis a little flush of adrenaline. He was ever more defined up close, a plain white shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. It was tight, so much so that if the poor man flexed the shirt would rip and the buttons would fly off. The image of that alone sent shockwaves through Ignis' cock. The man turned to look at him and Ignis locked eyes with him.  They were amber, an uncommon colour in a city of blues and greens, but not so rare that it was unheard of. His mask, a volto- a full face mask with a golden outer mask over the eyes, left everything to the imagination. It made Ignis curious as to the face behind it. He lowered his eyes, taking note of the colourful plastic rose tucked into his breast pocket. Ignis hadn't noticed it before but everyone had them, an identifying mark on the patrons. He frowned as he tried to work out the puzzle. What did it mean?  Theirs were a six-coloured rainbow, others were simply blue or pink, and there were others of varying colours, shades of purple, whites and pastels. He remembered the circumstance in which he'd been given it and the question that had been asked before.

Oh gods, he blushed as the realisation hit. The person upstairs knew his sexual preference just by looking at him, and it seemed, if his theory was correct, the man beside him preferred the same. He shifted in his seat, his cock excited about the thought of having a chance with him.

The man drained his drink as soon as it was placed in front of him, some sort of whisky judging by the colour of the liquid and the type of glass, before standing up.  Hiding his disappointment, Ignis turned back to his own drink. A tap on his shoulder and an outstretched hand in invitation caused him to finish his drink rather quickly and place his hand on the man's, allowing him to be led to the dance floor. He felt giddy and nervous at the same time. He was by no means a virgin- he had plenty of locker room trysts and half-hearted relationships under his belt to know his way around a bedroom. It was dancing he wasn't so hot on and that's where Mr Tall Dark and Handsome was leading him. Standing up, he could see there were a good six inches between them, Ignis being on the shorter end of the scale.  The man placed his hands on Ignis' hips, pulling him close as the song changed to a slow, acoustic tune.

Ignis could dance if you counted a waltz or foxtrot as appropriate dances for a nightclub. There was also his knowledge of Galahdian Barn dances, only known due to a drunken fling with a member of the Kingsglaive. What he couldn't do was the slow grind that was happening with his partner, and his partner realised that when, after a few rolls of the hips, Ignis hadn’t responded or danced back. He turned Ignis around so his back was up against the man's chest and Ignis closed his eyes, trying to let the music dictate his movements. The man behind him rolled his hips again, grinding his groin into Ignis' ass. Ignis couldn't help the little moan that escaped his lips and his partner chuckled, the cool flesh of his mask pressed up against Ignis' neck as though the man had forgotten he was wearing a mask and had gone in for a kiss. A hand ghosted round to the front of Ignis' pants, cupping his arousal and causing Ignis to buck his hips forward, indicating that he wanted more than just a touch.

Ignis spun back around, placing both hands around the neck of the other man, finally finding the rhythm of the music to roll his own hips and grind his crotch into that of his partner. The man tightened his grip on Ignis' hips, helping him grind. Lowering a hand, Ignis drifted it over to the front of the man's trousers, unbuttoning the button, and he was about to dip his hand under the leathery fabric when a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. Amber eyes bore into his, eyes that were filled with lust, and soon he was being dragged across the dance floor towards the private rooms.

The moans of pleasure from behind closed doors didn't embarrass Ignis as much as they would have done before.  They only enhanced his arousal, his cock pulsing painfully in his trousers, screaming at him for release. His partner found an empty room, slid a sign on the front of the door to signify it was occupied and pushed Ignis inside. He followed behind him and, to Ignis' relief, locked the door.

What now? Ignis thought as he stood in the middle of the darkened room, lit only by a few candles on a table. There was a double bed, thankfully clean and unruffled.  Either it had been a quiet night or someone dutifully cleaned up after each occupant. A hand on his chest brought him back to the present, a gentle hand, surprising for its size. It slid in the opening left by his top buttons being undone and ghosted over a nipple, causing Ignis' knees to buckle. It wasn't long before he was pushed onto the bed, fingers pulling at the button and zip on his trousers, pulling them down and over his ass, underwear going with them and allowing his cock the freedom it craved. The same gentle hand that teased a nipple now teased his cock, pulling up slowly from ball to tip. The man's other hand fiddled with his own trousers, button already undone thanks to Ignis' wandering hands on the dance floor.  It wasn't long before they were down and around his ankles, his own cock, erect and leaking pre-cum, exposed to the elements.

Ignis longed to take the bulging cock of the other man in his mouth, to lick and suck him senseless, but his mask restricted that.  Both of their masks did, and he didn't want to know what happened if he broke a rule. Ironic, considering he was here to break them. With the man's pants now around his ankles, his other hand found his way to his own cock, giving it the same attention he was giving Ignis'. A particularly long and teasing stroke, with a stroke of the tip with his thumb, caused a rather loud moan to escape from Ignis. He threw his head back onto the bed, his hips thrusting into the air, desperate for release.

His hands grasped above him before grasping the sheets below him, anchoring him to the bed as the man's hand stroked him closer to completion, toes curling as his balls began to tighten, the strokes becoming smoother as his own cum lubricated him. His breathing hitched and above him, he could hear the harried breathing of his partner, close to completion as well.  Would they crest together? Or would Ignis come first, gushing over the large hand that was to be his undoing?

The answer to his question never came and, with a disappointed whine, Ignis found himself cold and lying on the bed, the man above him having curtailed any contact the two of them had. He was left on the very precipice of his orgasm.  He rolled his hips and glanced around in the dark in the hopes of enticing the other man to resume what he was doing. Instead, he felt a hand on his hips before he was rolled over onto his front. The sound of a drawer opening, the tear of a packet, of a condom being rolled over a slick cock, the click of a lid as it was opened. Cool hands teased at his entrance, fingers pushed in and Ignis relaxed, welcoming the feeling.

It didn't take long for Ignis to be on that cliff again, balancing between pleasure and relief as fingers plunged into him, stretching him, readying him. It wasn't enough though, and he longed to touch his own weeping cock to help him over the edge, but he didn't.  He resisted and he was rewarded.

The man went to three fingers, curling them and scissoring them before Ignis felt hands on his hips raising his ass into the air, a hand on his back steadying him before the pressure of a cock at his entrance. He was ready, more than ready, as the taller man pushed into him, Ignis pushing back against him until he bottomed out and Ignis had the very satisfactory feeling of being completely filled. None of his other lovers had made him feel this way.  None of the others managed to hit him in the right spot the first time they dove back in. None of the others coaxed noises out of him like the ones he was making now.

The hand on his back drifted up to the back of his head, grasping at his hair and roughly pulling his head back.

A single word escaped from Ignis' lips. "Fuck."

He was everywhere and anywhere at once, the man behind, thrust into him, roughly pulling his head back with every withdrawal. It was raw, unbridled, undiluted and everything Ignis needed. His thoughts, worries and fears melted away as with every stroke of his prostate, with every thrust into him Ignis found himself getting closer and closer to the end.  There was just one thing he would need…

A hand fumbled underneath him, grasping the base of his cock before sliding roughly up and Ignis yelled out his release.  Behind him, the man grunted and thrust once more before he too was brought to completion, and they rode out their orgasms together before collapsing on the bed, breathing heavily amidst the smell and stickiness that was their own mess.

There was a soft pop that accompanied the sense of emptiness Ignis felt after his partner withdrew. He watched as the man disposed of the condom, grabbed a cloth of the side and wiped himself clean. He pulled up his trousers, tucked in his shirt and left without a word. Not that he could have said anything with the rule on no talking. Ignis allowed himself a couple of seconds to get his breath back before he gingerly got up from the bed. There was another cloth on a sideboard along with a bowl of warm water, heated by a candle underneath its stand. He washed himself off, pulled up his pants and left the room. The man was nowhere to be seen when he returned to the dance floor and not wanting to stick around Ignis went upstairs to reclaim his jacket and to leave.

It wasn't until he was back in his car, contemplating his competency to drive, that the reality of what had just happened kicked in. He'd just had sex, in a club designed for casual sex, with a complete stranger. It had been fast and distant and exactly what Ignis had needed. He hadn't thought about Noctis the whole time he'd been in there.  He'd gone in frustrated and annoyed and come out relaxed, satisfied and with a desire to do it all again.

_ But wait, _ a small part of his brain questioned as he drove slowly and carefully back to his apartment.   _ Would you do it with anyone, or would you only settle for him? _


	2. Chapter 2

They started out as ambiguous, a dark shadow in a dark room pounding into him again and again but, as he turned his head back to watch the object of his desire, they morphed into _him._ Brown haired, muscled, perfection, and those eyes, those amber eyes boring into him, filled with the very fire that ignited within him. A fire that burned as he gripped the bedsheets below him.

The man was merciless with his thrusts, a hand on his hair as it pulled him back, the pain only making his cock shiver with anticipation.  It ended with a hand, a rough, calloused hand pulling on his cock, squeezing, milking him through a mind shattering orgasm, an orgasm that woke him up with a shout.

He flopped back down on his bed when he realised he'd thrust himself up and forward and rubbed his eyes, grimacing at the sticky sensation currently clinging to his thighs. It had been a dream, a very vivid dream.  A dream that intense hadn't happened to him since he was a teenager learning about the wonders of internet pornography.

He glanced at his clock, groaning inwardly when he saw it was time to get up. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally spent, and the minor headache he had from the two martinis he’d drunk the night before didn't help.

He wasn't hungover. He hadn't even been drunk.  If he had been drunk he might not have remembered what had happened last night and he certainly didn't want to forget in a hurry. He peeled back his duvet with a groan, making a mental note to put everything in the washing machine before he left, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Glancing down at his lap, he groaned. Here he was at twenty-two still having nocturnal emissions like he was a randy high schooler. With a sigh and a rub of his temples he got up and padded to the bathroom, shedding his clothes and throwing them into the laundry basket, all the while still thinking about the previous night. 

There was no doubt about it, it had been good.  No, not good- great. Mind-blowing. Earth-shattering.  And it had only been one night. _It was ironic_ , he thought as he stepped under the torrent of water allowing it to cascade over his back, _that when Noctis told me to go find someone else to fuck he probably didn't mean literally._

The rest of the day went by in a blur, too busy with meetings, his responsibilities keeping his mind from wandering. Noctis apologised as he always did.  Their dispute, whilst anger fuelled and serious, had been trivial, a disagreement over responsibility. Noctis wanting to shirk and go fishing with Prompto, Ignis wanting him to buck up and actually take an interest in the world for once. Noctis won, he usually did, but eventually came around. Ignis would have to thank Prompto later.  It was usually the blonde boy's influence that pacified Noctis.

That night he didn’t have any responsibilities. There was a party, which he was invited to, but passed on. The Prince's Shield was celebrating his twenty-third, and Ignis had no desire to go and celebrate with someone he'd never spoken to. They'd met, once before, when he was six and the shield seven. They'd shook hands and exchanged pleasantries before they were both whisked away for their separate studies. They never interfered with each other.  He advised and Gladiolus protected. They knew of each other and their shared responsibility towards Noctis but that was it. And Ignis was fine with that. From what he heard from Noctis, the shield was cocky, arrogant and full of himself. If he was being honest with himself though, Noctis had probably told outrageous lies about him to Gladio, so he couldn't really judge.

With the prince preoccupied with the celebrations, Ignis tried to enjoy a quiet night to himself doing laundry and catching up on paperwork. He'd made himself a quick dinner before setting down with the reports of the day. The television, volume turned down low, was switched to the nature channel, background noise in his otherwise quiet apartment. But even a report on the increased activity from the old, derelict Lucian Army bases couldn’t distract him for long. Not even a documentary on the mating patterns of Garula could stop him from remembering a muscular man with brown hair and warm amber eyes.

He was out of the house, his keys in hand and twenty-five dollars tucked into his back pocket before his brain had time to catch up with his feet. He was in the car and driving towards the Old Town before he realised he'd left his phone back at his apartment. Spurred by the thought of seeing _him_ again, Ignis decided not to go back and get it. Noctis was with his shield, they didn't need him. His mask, safely tucked away in the glove compartment of his car lest Noctis see it and ask questions, was retrieved, his glasses tucked away in return. Car parked and locked, he walked towards the door, ignoring the smirk in the cloakroom attendant’s voice as they asked for his jacket and money.

_He_ wasn't there and Ignis was disappointed.  It was, however, a little busier, Thursday nights being close enough to the weekend that more people could afford to come out and let their hair down. He sipped his drink (gin and tonic this time, the bar staff on point again with meeting his demands) and glanced around, watching. It occurred to him that it might not have been _Muscles_ that had been the reason for his euphoria the night before. Sure _Muscles_ had something to do with it, it takes two to tango after all, but after his third glass and observing those around him he realised that there was a certain mystique to the whole event, a sense of anonymous allure, that awoke arousal in him like he'd never seen before.

He glanced down at his empty glass and shook his head when offered a fourth.  When his mind was alliterating subconsciously, it was time to stop. He rose from the bar slowly- he'd only had three glasses but they had definitely been more gin than tonic- and made his way to the bathroom.

Ignoring the wet sounds of skin on skin coming from a closed cubicle, he finished up his business quickly, washed his hands and left again, not wanting to disturb whatever foreplay was happening behind closed doors.  His exit was swift enough, however, that he didn't notice the figure hanging outside the door until he was almost on top of him.

He was a small thing, blonde with a plain black mask- nothing historical about it but it did the job in covering his face. His eyes were a watery hazel, not deep and warm enough to be amber but still captivating enough. He smiled, forgetting that his mouth covered his face - Ignis could see the way his eyes lifted - and he shifted shyly, head turning down as if he was embarrassed.

Here was someone completely different to _Muscles_. He stood a good three inches shorter than he was, no muscle mass whatsoever and a sort of subservient nature, the perfect candidate to test his theory. He slowly reached a hand out, placing a finger under the man's chin to tilt his head upwards, forcing eye contact. The man's eyes widened in surprise as they locked onto his before melting into acceptance.

Ignis took a hold of the man's wrist, rubbing small circles with his thumb as he pulled him through the club, dodging dancers, leading the way to the private rooms.

They entered and the man- _Timid,_ Ignis' brain dubs him- headed into the room whilst Ignis closed and locked the door.  He turned to see the man sitting on the edge of the bed, picking carefully at a hole in his sweater. Crossing the room, Ignis crouched down so he was eye level with the man, placing one hand on his thigh and rubbing soothingly whilst the other hand tilted the head up, forcing eye contact once more.  Ignis let his eyes roam, seeking _Timid's_ , looking for consent.  He wouldn't continue unless it was there. They held their gaze for what seemed like an age before _Timid_ swallowed and nodded slowly.

It was hard not being able to speak, to reassure him.  It was also hard not being able to lavish his partner with kisses- normally, this would have been the part in the proceedings where Ignis would have pushed _Timid_ down and started working his way from top to bottom in order to heighten his arousal. All he had instead were his hands. He stood up and motioned for _Timid_ to get comfortable whilst he went over to the sideboard and collected what he needed. Turning back, he saw that _Timid_ had started without him, his pants open at the crotch, his cock in his hand, smaller than _Muscles_ but no less impressive.

He smiled beneath his mask, hoping at least his eyes would crinkle in such a way that his partner could see. He walked slowly to the end of the bed, eyes never moving as he watched the blonde slowly and lazily drag his hand up and down his cock. Ignis had lube in his hand and he tossed it over to the other man who promptly nodded his thanks and flipped the lid open before pouring some on his hands to help the friction of his strokes.

Ignis watched a while, his own cock stirring at the sight of the semi-naked man in front of him. He walked forward and, when his legs knocked the edge of the bed, he climbed on, crawling on all fours towards the other man.

The other man shivered and, as his hand sped up, Ignis wanted to tell him to slow down, to savour the moment.  But there was the rule preventing it. Instead, he reached out towards a wrist, hoping to slow him with touch. It did the opposite and, as Ignis hand brushed it, there was a quiet moan muffled by teeth clenching on a lip and he was coming, his hand stroking himself through the pleasure. Ignis sat back on his heels and stared.  _That was unexpected._

_Timid_ let out a soft, quiet giggle, not looking Ignis in the eye. His clean hand, the one that had been fisting into the sheets, anchoring him lest he fall-over, reached out, palm outstretched and fingers splayed. His eyes briefly rose and indicated that he wanted Ignis to take it.

Confused, Ignis mimicked the gesture and the two shook hands before the other man scrambled up and out of the bed. He washed his hand quickly in the basin on the counter, zipped up his trousers and bolted out the room, leaving Ignis, alone, confused and sexually frustrated.

What the fuck had just happened?

With a sigh, Ignis tried to comprehend what had just transpired. He'd found someone willing, took him back to one of the rooms and the guy had come before anything had happened. Shifting on the bed so he was no longer facing the headboard, he instead rested his back against it as he wondered how best to proceed. Go out there and try and find someone else willing or give up and go home?

Going home wasn't an option.  He'd come here with a mission. The only problem was that the person he needed to complete the mission wasn't here and, truth be told, Ignis really didn't want anyone else.  He'd tried and yes, he'd been aroused by the blonde jerking off in front of him, but it just wasn't him. He didn't have the eyes, the physique, the hair. He could find someone with the same colour hair, the same coloured eyes, but he wouldn't find another _him_ and that frustrated him. Who was the mystery man? Where did he work? What was his name? Had they met at a coffee shop or worked together would they have become a couple and dated before the mind-blowing sex? Or, because Ignis had found him at some damn casual sex joint, was it doomed to be a one night stand?

His hands drifted towards the zipper on his trousers and he pulled it down, thinking all the while how different this night would have been had _he_ been there. Would he have even wanted another round? Ignis certainly hoped so. He imagined coming down the stairs of the club, looking out across the dance floor and over to the bar. His hands palmed himself through his briefs as, in his mind's eye, _Muscles_ rose from the bar as soon as their eyes met, crossing the room, acting as though it wasn't packed with other patrons, that it was only him and Ignis. Ignis' hand slipped beneath fabric as _Muscles_ greeted him at the bottom of the stairs, taking his hand in his own and raising it to the mask, pressing the back of his hand up to his mask in a pseudo-kiss before pulling him by the same hand into the corridor with the rooms. 

They entered a room, the very same room Ignis was in now, lying on a bed, his cock exposed to the elements as his hand tried to bring him the pleasure he so craved from the honey-eyed muscle man.

His breathing hitched as he stroked, long and laborious, gripping at the base and keeping the pressure all the way up before twisting at the end. They were at the bed now, the backs of Ignis' legs hitting it and causing him to fall down. Somehow they’d lost their masks, but _Muscles_ was too busy worshipping his body with kisses to allow Ignis to see what his face looked like.  Instead, he could feel the man's lips on his hip, pressing kisses into his neck, his chest, over his nipples down to his navel. In his fantasy, the hand on his cock wasn’t his own.  It belonged to the strong man he so wanted to be with. He was still kissing him, going lower, Ignis’ breathing picked up the pace as the hands sped up. He wanted the man to stop kissing him, to look up at him with those honey eyes he so craved.

His cock weeping and lubricated made his hand slide easily and keep the pace.  He was so close now he could taste it. He wanted to feel the man's lips on his cock as he swallowed him whole, but he wanted to watch him do it. Amber eyes, watching with amusement. He opened his own, half expecting to see the man at his feet, looking at him poised and ready to bring him to completion with his mouth. Instead, Ignis saw feet. Two pairs of feet that didn’t belong there.  His head whipped up startled. The door! He hadn’t locked the door!

It was a couple- a sandy blonde woman, his own build with long lanky legs, and a man. Brown hair, with muscles and honey-amber eyes. Ignis' mouth opened wide behind his mask as they locked eyes. The other man's eyes crinkled in amusement before piercing him with a stare that topped Ignis over the edge. Hand still pumping, he squeezed hard and slid up to the tip of his cock where, with a low moan, Ignis came. Eyes locked on each other, the woman was non-existent as Ignis stared at him and he stared at Ignis.

Ignis broke the eye contact first, his hand slowing as he finished, the embarrassment of the ordeal setting in after coming down from his high. The other man was smiling- Ignis could tell by the way the eyes narrowed- but all he wanted was to leave. Without even cleaning himself up, he zipped up his trousers and scrambled off the bed and out into the hall, the door closing and locking behind him.

"Shit."

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the wonderfully talented [Butterfly_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly_girl/pseuds/Butterfly_girl/works) for betaing this project for me, check out her stuff as she is awesome and deserves your love.


End file.
